October 28, 2011 Oleksiy Koval invited me to participate in an exhibition involving music and painting. To be sure, music and painting projects have been presented many times throughout thousands of years. However, this particular collaboration was to focus on rhythm.

But what does this mean? It is clear what rhythm can be in musical terms, but not so clear in the discipline of painting. Through correspondences and meetings, I discussed these concepts with Oleksiy, and we found that we had many ideas in common.

I have always been drawn to creating music based on analogies with the natural world, and although Oleksiy’s ideas may not be this exactly, in my opinion some kind of analogies do exist in his work, or maybe I create them in my mind when viewing his paintings. However, this is not much different from the listener of music, where the sounds also stimulate the imaginations of individual audience members to create different visual fantasies in each person.

So, my own relationship to Oleksiy’s paintings are based on my own internal creations, stimulated by the shapes and colors in the paintings. And for me, there is rhythm in the placement, arrangement and relationship of these visual elements, just as rhythm in music is the same with sonic elements.

Music is a dynamic art, meaning it is always moving. The final result of a painting is not moving except in the mind of the viewer (or more precisely, it is not moving relative to the viewer). But there is also the rhythm in the act of painting, i.e., the rhythm of the gestures and technique that produce the painting, which is in motion. And, similar to music, through these gestures, ideas of meter, tempo, pulse relationships, etc., can be explored.

It’s in these areas that rhythm ideas can be explored through a kind of cross-discipline ensemble of musicians and painters. My most recent recording explores musical analogies of the biological rhythms of the human body. Several of Oleksiy’s paintings remind me of the themes that I have been exploring. Since we are ourselves a manifestation of Nature, any of our activities will in some way be connected to these natural rhythms. However, when a person is aware of their connection to Nature, then the rhythmic gestures of both the sonic and visual artists is in better alignment to the rhythms of Nature.

These are some of the thoughts and impressions that I feel, and that run through my mind while I am viewing Oleksiy’s paintings. From my point of view, these paintings can, similar to music, trigger an initial environment of mind and emotion, which can act as the substrate for the experience of an expanded awareness of the connection of all rhythmic activity.

In January of 1997 coach Valeriy Lobanovskiy returned from Kuwait to Dynamo Kyiv. At that time the club was in a deep crisis. However, the Ukrainian soccer coach succeeded to bring Kyiv back to the top of European soccer that very same year. On October 22, 1997 at a UEFA Champions League game in Kyiv, the Barcelona soccer team played against Dynamo Kyiv. Barcelona lost 3-0. Bad luck was how Louis van Gaal, manager of Spanish champions at the time, described the loss of his team at the press conference. One week later in Barcelona, Dynamo Kyiv won the return match 0-4. And within a month, Kyiv was the winner in the C Group, which in addition to Barcelona included Eindhoven and Newcastle. The reason for this success was the special way they played, which Lovanovskiy described as universal soccer. In contrast to European soccer philosophies, where a list of quite complex strategies and tactics are crucial, Lobanovskiy’s organization is really a philosophy. It is derived from a kind of Eastern European tranquility. For Valeriy Lovanovskiy, soccer is a physical process, where two critical masses participate. The task of these masses is to seize and control the space. Control means not only occupying space, but imposing the rhythm of the game on the opponent.

442 v 351. Soccer formation tactics on a blackboard.

… imposing the rhythm of the game on the opponent. What does that mean exactly? To answer this question, rhythm must first be defined.

Biological rhythm is caused by periodic states and changes of organisms. In poetry, rhythm is considered as sequences of different accent patterns within the constancy of the verse metre. In language, rhythm is defined as the temporal division of speech. And rhythm in music is the accent patterns designated through the sequence of different note values that overlay the basic pulse.

Søren Kierkegaard’s book Works of Love, describes the way rhythm can manipulate the meaning of the same sentence. Kierkegaard, philosopher and poet, finds a way to attach different meanings to the same sentence – just by altering the rhythm. For example, in the second paragraph:

In this case, the rhythm is an accentuation within a regular, recurring constant.

Defense and attack are Lobanovkiy’s accent patterns during the game. The implementation of such accents means forcing or imposing the rhythm of the game on the opponent.

I consider painting a game. I am interested in soccer strategies, because painting and soccer have common aspects and share similar processes. As in all other games, in painting the successful result is crucial. My goal is to triumph in the battle against the surface, however I am satisfied, not just by achieving any successful result, but only if I have realized my concept. Such an accomplishment can not be planned beforehand, but one can try to find procedures to make it possible. Just as in soccer, I am looking for the rhythm in painting.

So what is the rhythm in painting?

In order to answer this question, it is necessary to understand the essence of painting. Painting is applying color to a surface by hand or by using other tools. This applying of color to a surface is a movement in space and time. And the accentuation of this movement is the rhythm in painting.

Picture: Jim Pickerell

To illustrate rhythm in painting, let us imagine a bus. The bus has a specific number of seating and standing capacity allocated by the designers. The accentuation or the rhythm, happens within a basic pattern – within a set number of places to be used. This creates passengers, whether large or small, heavy or slim, alone or in groups, with prams or in wheelchairs. The units which a painter applies to the surface, are the size and character of the passengers of a bus.

Life is a permanent movement in cycles and rhythms. Such rhythms shape my physical and psychological state and have a direct influence on my painting. The more secure and the more conscious my use of them are, the higher my chances for a victory over the surface.

The pleasure of painting quickly vanishes if the concept cannot be realized. The impossibility of realizing it, often does not depend on varied techniques of painting, but rather, on how one is able to implement the different techniques. Working with different techniques allows one to change the terrain and raises the chances for beating the surface. Such shifting movements form a technical rhythm which gives me the possibility to use my physical rhythm efficiently.

In painting, I learned from Garry Kasparov. The game of chess was just as reputable as soccer or ice hockey during my childhood in Kyiv in the 1980s. Especially, the rivalry between Anatoliy Karpov and Garry Kasparov provided for this popularity. While Karpov was regarded as a favorite in the capitol of the Soviet Ukraine and as a representative of the Moscow Government, Kasparov won the sympathy of Kyiv. Kasparov’s art of play enabled the Grand Master to win the world title in 1985, which he successfully defended for the following 15 years.

The Grand Master makes moves, not only because he responds spontaneously to events, but because he wants to checkmate his opponent in 10-15 moves. I am applying the colors on the surface not in direct response to an event, but because I want to conquer the painting as a whole. The goal of chess is to checkmate your opponent’s king. The goal of painting is to dominate (to beat) the surface.

Achieving the goal requires strategy and tactics. Each touch of the surface of the painting with color is either consistent with my strategy or contradicts it. The continuous reflection on the procedure of painting helps me to get over the obstacles of indecision and mere self- confidence. I decide at the start of the game, whether I go slowly on the surface, step by step or fast, dynamic, attacking. There is however, no universal strategy that guarantees success. I love to paint in a fast, dynamic and aggressive manner, but many times I have lost using this procedure! The situation changes often on the surface while I juggle with the colors and I have to decide during the process whether to retain my original strategy or pick up a new one…

In chess and in painting, there are moves that contradict absolutely the strategy of action, but save the game. If the strategy is a gameplan, then tactic is a conscious reaction to the game. Often when I paint, I get to a balanced position – I have achieved a draw (peaceful solution). But I want to go further and if I do, I lose this attained position. So I must hold out. A state like this in chess is called mindful idleness. The balance between me and the painting does not last and it is then clear for me when I should attack. If I cannot get myself under control, there will be no draw anymore and I will lose. “This strategic goal must be converted into organic tactical thinking” Garry Kasparov.

Often however, breaks in intuition mandates a new step in the course of the rules. Every successful painting of mine has points that are beyond interpretation. Such points on the surface are contrary to my intentions and nevertheless they play an essential role. But when I entrust too much to intuition, I make mistakes, and the painted surface crumbles. The calculus must not degenerate to the scheme.

In his book Conversations with Cézanne, Joachim Gasquet quotes the french painter:

“… It is necessary to be a good worker. Nothing but a painter. To have a formula and to realize it.He looks at me, sad and sublime.
The ideal of heaven on earth … is to have a beautiful formula.“

During my studies at the Academy of Fine Arts in Munich, I was looking for a polarity in painting: I wanted to avoid spacial representations and instead produce a difference in which the color remains on the surface and yet wins visual vastness. In order to not lose control in my experiments with the properties of color, I was looking for a way of organizing the surface that could provide me with an obvious entry and a clear conclusion in painting. Thus, I have developed a basic model, which divides the surface into equal intervals of numerical impulses such as 1/4, 1/9, 1/16, 1/25 or 1/36.

Such metre encourages not only the concentration of spontaneous choices between events, but also causes a conscious attitude towards the pace, in which colors can be attached on surfaces.

According to the division of the surface I focused my thoughts on the procedure of the movement in painting. An outstanding element of the process of painting is the rhythm in which the fabrication of an art work is accomplished. Rhythmical structures generate the process of painting as a more or less determinated movement in space and time. It gives form to the application of colors on surfaces. The rules of such a shaping, its sequence and number can be set and handled as rhythmical motives, such as 2,2,3,1 or 1,1,2. Here the 1 is to be conceived as a basal unity of movement that can be freely chosen.

As an example for one rhythmical motive I take a fig leaf. If you compare the proportion of a single part of the leaf, the following rhythm appears: 1,1,3,3,5

This basic pattern during the splitting, or dividing of the surface and the procedure of the movement during painting are represented with the help of certain signs and symbols. And so The Beautiful Formula Language was created. This language allows us to understand the procedure of the compositions, to realize the compositions and to create new ones.

The idea, to apply The Beautiful Formula Concept in to a group work, was successfully realized in the winter 2012. Together with artists from various sectors of the visual arts (painting, drawing, graffiti), I founded The Beautiful Formula Collective. Since 2012, The Beautiful Formula Collective has realized live-painting-performances, workshops and seminars at art colleges, galleries and museums in Munich, Leipzig, Zurich, Singapore, Kyiv, Wuhan, Tbilisi, Tehran, London to name a few. The spontaneous and reflexive reaction to visual conditions of a composition on the surface is the essential structure of the The Beautiful Formula Collective.

The Beautiful Formula concept allows not only realizing of artworks in different areas of the visual art, but is also cross-disciplinary.

Since 2000 I deal with the works of the American musician, alto saxophonist, bandleader and composer Steve Coleman. I am fascinated in Colman’s music especially his rhythmic forms and the way how he varies these. How Lobanovskiy’s Dynamo from defense to attack or Cezanne’s painting skip from white to black, so do Steve Coleman’s bands rhythmicaly from silence to sound. In an interview, Steve Coleman said, he wanted to express the recognition of the natural rhythms of the universe.

In the summer of 2008, I heard Steve Coleman live in Munich with two bands. The alto saxophonist and his Five Elements from New York met the rapper from the hip-hop collective Opus Akoben from Washington. Steve Coleman has succeeded via complex rhythm to make one band out of two. The musicians were playing their own rhythms in different cycles. The cycles overlapped and parted again. These fluctuations were supported by very intense groove. That changed in spectacular speed from soft and slow to loud and fast. The musicians responded reflexively to the changing musical conditions without losing the balance of the band.

I contacted Steve Coleman in order to undertake a performance with common rhythmical motives in which painters and musicians participate together. The performance was successfully realized at the Munich Academy of Fine Arts in July 2013.

Last year, I was asked by Steidle Architects to try to implement The Beautiful Formula Ideas on the design of a storefront. Here is an example with the rhythmical motive 1,2,1,3,1,5.

In chemistry, elements are called simple substances of which mixed substances consist. The term chemical element should help to explain the wide range of properties and reactions of substances scientifically. Chemical elements refer to primary substances that are neither composed from other substances nor resulted from these, but constitute the components that make up mixed substances.

The term chemical element led me to question whether there could be such a thing as a painter-ly element (or basic element) in painting?

If you look at a painting as a composition of mixed substances and their reactions to each other, then the question arises as to what the basic components of painting might be. I distinguish eight elements of painting: color, surface, movement, time, space, light, matter and finally the painter (cause, medium, subject). Here, space and light are elements of the environment in which a painting is created; color, surface, motion, time, matter and the painter are both elements of an environment, as well as a painting. This creates two categories into which the eight elements of the painting can be subdivided:

1. Elements of the environment: light and space
2. Elements of a painting and the environment: color, surface, movement, time, matter and painter

Light and the space

Light is the visible part of the electromagnetic radiation.As an element of the environment, the light directly affects both the surface and the dye.The color impression of light emanating from a self-luminous light source is its color.If color of light hits the surface of the painting support or the dye, there will be an additive mixing of colors in the eye and brain of the observer.If the color impressions of light are added to maximum brightness, it creates the sensation ofwhite color, and if the brightness is reduced to zero, the resulting color sensation is black.For without light, there would be no painting. If necessary, you can turn off the light, as for example Cy Twombly occasionally did while painting. Contrary to light the situation with the space is not as simple. (It is possible to control light. It can be turned on and off, however I can not turn off the space. The space always exists.) For painting space is only relevant insofar as it acts as an element of the environment, or as a container for the painting. Space influences the size of the painting medium and determines the distance between the painter and the painting.

The use of color in painting has two origins: color space and colorant.
Color space is defined as the application of a color model: it can be realized by a coloring method. Normally such a color space model consists of three or more primary or basic colors, whose mixtures create different shades of color within this color space. Such color spaces provide a clear handling of the shades or tones, in which a color system takes control of the variety of the spectrum. However, the color systems only describe the theoretical principles of color mixing and never the technical implementation of the colored base material. If a painter uses a color system that is based on the mixing of primary colors, the matter of the color is produced by the method, which is determined only by the painter’s choice. In this case, the appearance of a color on the surface is independent of its base fabric, (img. 1).
Colorant or dye means a material which has the properties to tint other materials. The qualities of colorants are dependent on the binding with respect to the respective medium. The ways of binding the colorant are co-determined by the materials. In contrast to color space the dye or colorant maintains the basic material on the painted surface independently from its appearance. The properties of a colorant determine its hue. In this procedure, the matter and material determine the character of the hue. Both the properties of hue, as saturation and brightness, are limited in their development which also applies to the shade itself, (img. 2).

Surface in painting is defined as a painting support. Two main properties of the surface are significant for the attachment of colors: the size and shape of the surface and the quality of the surface.
The measure of the size and shape is the format of a surface. The area of a surface is determined by one or more edges. If the area comprises of more than one edge, it follows that the area has one or more corners. The measurement of a surface, its edges and its corners are the original constants of painting. The regularity of these constants influences the size and shape of the tool used for applying paint as well as the speed with which the paint is applied.
In contrast, the characteristics of the tool and the color through matter are informed and shaped by the quality of the surface. The materiality of the surface shows itself either in its original qualities or in a coating which has its own qualities and transforms the initial element of the surface.

(img. 3) Photo: Veronika Wenger

Movement and time

To apply the color on the surface, the painter changes his position in time. The result is movement. While painting, two different movements can be distinguished: the movement of the the painter in space and the movement on the surface. An example of a painting of two movements would be the surface of a puddle in spring with pollen fallen on it: the pollen moves on the water surface (img. 3).

(img. 4) Caspar David Friedrich: Winterlandschaft mit Kirche, 1811

It is not possible to exclude one of the two types of movement while painting, but one can focus on one of the them. While Caspar David Friedrich emphasizes the movement on the surface in his works (img. 4), Jackson Pollock preferred in his drip paintings the movement in space (img. 5).

(img. 5) Jackson Pollock, One: Number 31, 1950

Through movement in the act of painting, time is set. It is not only interesting to see how much time a painter needs for his work, but also how many different time zones arose by attaching colors on a surface. With time zones, I mean the parts of a painting, on which the painter has worked for different time intervals at different times. When looking at the Rembrandt The Risen Christ (img. 6), one realizes that the painter tried to apply the paint in the dark areas very thin and at once, but in the light areas he used impasto and put several layers one onto of the other. Such a synthesis of various time zones in an area creates contrasts that create visual tension.

Matter is a term for the substance that all things are made of, regardless of their appearance. One has to distinguish between the matter of a painting (meaning the matter of the surface and matter of the surrounding) and the matter of the dye and the tool with which it is applied to the surface. The matter of the surrounding can be attached unaltered to the surface of the painting medium, like Andrei Rublev did in his Trinity (img. 7) using beatgold, egg tempera and lacquer.

(img. 7) Trinity, Andrei Rublev

Through the procedure of the painter, Rublev’s painting refers to the environment, but such a reference can also be avoided. The matter of the dye and the matter of the surface may form the matter of the painting via the painter’s access with his tool. When looking at the Composition C (No.III), with Red, Yellow and Blue, from 1935 by Piet Mondrian at the Tate Modern (img. 8), I realized that the primed canvas, the oil paint and the brushmarks were hardly recognizable. The surface of the painting has its own, or appears as its own matter.

While painting the painter makes decisions regarding the handling and treatment of color, surface and movement, time, space, light and matter. The painting always refers to the painter and the communicated meaning.

I consider painting a game. As in all other games, in painting the successful result is crucial. My goal is to triumph in the battle against the surface, however I am only satisfied, if I am not just achieving any successful result, but only if I have realized my concept. Such an accomplishment can’t be planned beforehand, but one can try to find procedures to make it possible.

Life is a permanent movement in cycles and rhythms. Such rhythms shape my physical and psychological state and have a direct influence on my painting. The more secure and the more conscious my use of them, the higher my chances for a victory over the surface.

When I was three years old my father gave me gouache-paint for the first time. Until now I remember my first works with paint, as well as the feeling of joy I had with it. I was happy about the result and the memory of painting got a hold of me since. It forces me until now to apply paint on surfaces. Even if I don’t want to do this everytime – the physical impulse stays.

The pleasure of painting quickly vanishes, if the concept cannot be realized. The impossibility of realizing it is often not depending on varied techniques of painting, but on how one is able to actualize the different techniques. Working with different techniques allows to change the terrain and raises the chances for beating the surface. Such shifting movements are forming a technical rhythm which gives me the possibility to use my physical rhythm efficiently.

Before stepping in front of a surface, I’m thinking about the amount of time and energy I have to invest to be successful. During a wall painting called “Die Treppe” in a private home I calculated correctly. But in the church of St. Paul in Munich together with the Beautiful Formula Collective I needed double as much energy than what I was thinking beforehand. To save energy and activate it in the right moment I need different tactics. Rarely I succeed in beating the surface while clinging to only one tactic. Tactical entries create accentuated events where physical and technical rhythms are connected.

Munich, December 2013

Thanks for help realizing this text to Prof. Bernhard Lypp, Stefan Schessl and Audrey Shimomura

Like this:

When I visited Gonghong Huang in August this year in Beijing, he asked me if I could write an article about his painting. I want a painter writing about my work, he said to me. I agreed.

In the contemporary art scene in China there is made a difference between figurative and abstract painting. Gonghong Huang is seen as an abstract painter there. If one sticks to the common ideas of art history, such a distinction could be accepted. But if one is painting, takes a tool in his hands and attaches colors on surfaces, you’ll find nothing abstract in this approach. Painting is never abstract. The painter makes a difference between good and bad painting, between art and non-art.

Gonghong Huang is not an abstract painter, Gonghong Huang is a painter. In the beginning the white support is often lying on the floor. Gonghong starts on one side, quickly applies the colors on the surface, then he starts on the other side and does the same. Gonghong paints quickly. After a while he is hanging the painting on the wall and rotates it until he is satisfied with top, bottom, left and right. Then he continues to paint, but this time much slower. While painting, Gonghong is less interested in color, rhythm, the light-dark and warm-cold contrast. He is interested in space. Here ‘space’ does not mean color space, but the ‘what-comes-forth and what-goes-back’ space. Gonghong paints on the surface as long until he is satisfied with the “spacial” balance. I don’t think that his works always emanate a peaceful balance, but rather a combination of destruction and construction. If it becomes too boring on the surface, Gonghong does something naughty and alienating; if he goes too far, he looks after ‘sedatives’. Sometimes Gonghong Huang shows his paintings in his studio to me, we talk about the works, criticize them, he remains silent for a moment, considers and then he immediately fixes some specific areas.

In Beijing I played table tennis and could watch many games. The carefulness with which the players choose their rackets, balls and shoes before the game, reminded me of the precision with which painters choose their tools, supports and colors. Then it starts, it is played, it is painted. Sometimes one is winning, sometimes losing, sometimes one reaches a draw. Many people ask me what Gonghong Huang is actually representing? Nothing. Painting represents nothing. Just like a tennis player is representing nothing, Gonghong as well is representing nothing. The tennis player is playing and wants to beat his opponent, Gonghong Huang is painting and wants to beat the surface.

Munich, September 2012

Thanks for help realizing this text to Prof. Bernhard Lypp and Stefan Schessl